


perks of being a dumbass with a piercing kit

by retrogaymer



Series: kissing your best friend of 12 years, and other reckless, chaotic, stupid, sweet fun [4]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (very brief though), Character Study, Dissociation, Ear Piercings, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrogaymer/pseuds/retrogaymer
Summary: Michael feels like a misfit. Rich lacks as much self-preservation as ever. Jeremy is pretty goddamn wasted. Christine is a lesbian. Jake should probably speak to social services. All in all a not too heinous day.





	perks of being a dumbass with a piercing kit

Michael never really considered himself a wallflower. Whenever he was at parties, he always had someone to talk to. Granted, that person was the same exact person, every time, and they rarely ever went to parties anyways, but - still! He had fun. Sometimes people even hit him up for weed, because that was pretty much his only characteristic to everyone but Jeremy - _“Michael Mell? Stoner guy, right?”_ \- and they'd spend the night in the circle of the halfway popular but still a little too lame, until the joint was finished and everybody else found reasons to leave the room.

Michael didn't mind, since he'd much rather be alone with Jeremy anyways. Especially a high Jeremy, because when Jeremy got just the right amount of high, all his anxiety filters turned off, which made him approximately ten times as touchy and a hundred times as giggly. And when Michael got to cuddle alone with a Jeremy that was losing his shit over just about everything? Well, that was easily the highlight of his whole week. Month, maybe.

Then, suddenly, Michael wasn't Jeremy's best friend, or even just the stoner guy. All he was to him was a loser. And even then, he still wasn't really a _wallflower_ \- more like bathtub mold, or whatever. He was fine with being alone and avoiding parties, cause Jeremy would be there, being popular and ignoring Michael and whatnot, and, uh, _fuck that._ Only reason he showed up was a life-or-death matter.

Somehow, when he and Jeremy were friends again, and then boyfriends, suddenly? _That's_ when Michael's roots drew him to the wall, had him planted there, tied to the tapestry of every party by stilks, framing him in a family of orange flowers that he found himself fitting in all too well with.

See, now he had a friend circle, something he was entirely unfamiliar with. All he had a concept of was ‘friend’, and now that friend was morphed to boyfriend, and that boyfriend was also part of the friend circle, and somehow interacted with it a hundred times more naturally than Michael. And, sure, Michael could be a part of all of that when he was with Jeremy, but - he couldn't expect Jeremy to spend a hundred percent of his time by Michael's side.

Sometimes he wanted to dance when Michael didn't. Sometimes he wanted to go upstairs to play truth or dare when Michael didn't.

And that was fine in itself, but - in those instances, Michael found himself unable to engage on his own. He didn't ever think about it when he started conversations with Jeremy, because he had been doing it since they were 6, and frankly didn't entirely remember how they even began. He never learned how to talk to anyone _but_ Jeremy.

He never learned what to do when he made eye contact with a half-acquaintance, when someone smiled at him, when he saw someone he wanted to talk to but mind went blank at the possibility.

His natural instincts had him gravitate towards the wall, like so many other cliché antisocial teens, as he watched the party go on around him in a social bubble he wasn't part of. One he didn't know how to get into. He mindlessly sipped at the cup full of Red Bull in his hand, felt the caffeine hit him and spread throughout his veins, energy filling his system that he… Had no way to channel into anything.

He found his eyes unfocusing as the festivities unfolded, found his vision tunnelling as time passed around him in a separate plane than his existence, felt like his spirit was slowly drifting up and out of his body -

felt a sudden jolt in his entire body as something grabbed him, and realised there was a loud presence in front of him, a vaguely pale and pink and red shape intercepted by a loud blue yelling something in his face. Michael one by one focused in again - first on the wet sensation on his hand and sleeve, which he soon realised was due to spilling his drink when he was jumpscared, then on the hand on his shoulder, firm, rustling him a little - he tuned in to the noise, gradually, and recognized the voice, which brought about the visual elements becoming clear enough to form one Rich Goranski snapping his fingers in front of Michael's face.

“Yo! Dude! Headphones! The hell is up with you?”

Michael shook off the last of the fuzzy feelings, shook _himself_ back in place into his own body, moved his free hand up to rub under his eyes. He was sweaty, he noted - Rich was pretty warm, too, looked flushed. Was it hot in here? Thinking about it, it felt a little humid.

“Hey - seriously,” Rich tried to get Michael's attention back to him again, a rare, concerned look in his eyes. “You good?”

“Sorry - yeah,” Michael finally confirmed. “Just zoned off.”

“You don't _fucking_ say,” Rich snorted, “you were like, in another dimension, there.”

“Hah, yeah,” Michael laughed a bit, hanged tight on the awkward silence that settled in the air between them. “So, uh… Did you need anything?”

“OH, yeah,” Rich suddenly got reinvigorated with his original energy, free hand shooting up to hold onto Michael's other shoulder, too. He looked excitedly into Michael's eyes, wide grin on his lips. “I need you to pierce my other ear.”

“You -” Michael blinked, eyebrows furrowing - “you what?”

“Tall-ass told me you pierced your Spencer's gifts dudes ears, yeah? I need you to do mine. I've been thinkin’ about it for ages and I need that symmetry, bro. At the very least I wanna swap ‘em around.”

Michael shook his head again, this time in confusion - “why?”

“The _gay ear_ , bro!” Rich exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Right now I have the straight ear,” he gestured, “and I'm not about that life anymore. I'm rolling with your crew.”

“I don't - gay ear? What does that mean?”

“You never heard?” Rich drifted to lean beside Michael on the wall, and Michael realised belatedly he'd snatched Michael's cup on the way once he mindlessly raised his hand to take a sip and found nothing. He quirked an eyebrow at Rich, as the shorter teen took a big gulp from the cup.

“Don't think so.”

“So,” Rich lowered the cup again, loosely gestured with his hands, “back in like, the 90s, I think - maybe 80s? I’unno, but, ANYWAYS - back then, if you were a dude and had your right ear pierced,” Rich pointed, _not_ with his free hand, accidentally spilling the drinm on himself as he went to indicate which ear. He didn't notice, or just didn't care. “If you only had that one pierced, it was like, a signal you were gay. Like, y’know… Uh…” Rich trailed off, scratching at his neck.

Michael resisted the urge to go ‘nyah’. “Like when women would give each other violets to indicate romantic feelings?”

“Yeah! Yeah,” Rich grinned, nodded. “So, the right ear - gay ear. But of course, ‘cause we're cool as shit, straights wanted to copy that or whatever, but also, gay? Ew? So the left ear became the _straight_ ear.”

“That's…” Michael paused, pushed his glasses up and itched the side of his nose. “That's super stupid.

“Mhm,” Rich agreed as he took another sip, “so - wanna pierce me?”

Michael considered him. Snorted, and shook his head a little. “Yeah, sure. I have equipment in my car - so.”

“Hell yeah!” Rich jumped up triumphantly, and when he spilled some more of his drink, Michael decided to take it back if only just to hold it. Rich took the free hand range to finger gun at Michael. “You lead the way, baby!”

Michael barked out a surprised laugh, shuffled a little awkwardly to test if Rich would just follow him, automatically - he did, all the way out to the PT Cruiser, and then jumped into the driver's seat while Michael rummaged around the glove compartment from the passenger spot. He realized after a few seconds that Rich was leaning in awfully close, mainly because he suddenly felt Rich's head resting on his shoulder.

Michael stifled a jolt, instead turned his head to give Rich a confused look. Rich just gave a shrug.

Michael was not satisfied with that, and was too preoccupied with being impulsive to be anxious over his word choice.

“Why?”

“‘M sleepy,” Rich explained, nuzzled in a little on the fabric of Michael's shirt. “And a nosey motherfucker. Wanna see what you got hidden right in there!” He gestured to the compartment. Michael paused, and looked back to the open clasp.

“Living your Sherlock Holmes fantasy?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rich suddenly leaned in over Michael's lap, who had to lift both his arms to grant him access.

He knew he didn't really have anything worth being embarrassed over, in there, but he still felt a rising sense of anxiety as the sounds of Rich rustling through his belongings filled the car. Dread of being ridiculed for anything found, of what Rich might say.

“God damn you're a hoarder - POGS!” Rich yelled as he abruptly withdrew from the shelf, bumping his head on the opening in his excitement. That didn't seem to bother him, though, as he reemerged with a plastic bag full of the colorful milk caps in them, the look on his face the most genuine childish joy Michael had ever seen.

“I didn't know you liked those,” Michael commented, adjusted himself in his seat as Rich began undoing the knot on the bag. Rich glanced up, gave him a meaningful look.

“ _Dude._ Been collecting them for ages. _This?_ ” He reached into the bag, withdrew one picturing a skeleton wearing shades, holding up an eight ball on a blue and purple background, “this is my fucking _aesthetic._ ”

Michael laughed, turned a little further towards Rich. “I got that bag at a thrift shop, actually. I've been meaning to go through it _forever,_ compare it to my collection at home but - didn't get around to it yet.”

“Dude!” Rich repeated, nudged at Michael's arm. “We need to compare collections. Get that _trading_ going.”

Michael snorted, nodded. “Alright - sure.”

Rich grinned at him, then went back to going through the multicolored pogs. After a moment or two, he paused, looked up again, eyebrows furrowed. “Why are we in your car again?”

Michael laughed. “You wanted me to pierce your ear.”

“OH, yeah!” Rich exclaimed, put back the few milk caps he'd pulled out to examine closer and tied the bag closed again. Looked back to Michael, expectantly.

“Hold this,” Michael said, handing the cup back to Rich. Rich nodded, and proceeded to take a large gulp from it. Michael noted in his head that that was probably something he should keep an eye on when handing drinks, and possibly anything edible to Rich. Michael started searching through the glove compartment again - finally got out the kit he was looking for, that his Spencer's gifts guy told him he could keep. Michael hadn't really planned on piercing anyone else ever again, but, he figured it was a pretty cool piece to hang on to.

...Shit, he really was a hoarder.

“Alright, I've got it,” he rattled the box to Rich, who lit up.

“Hell yeah!”

He paused.

“Actually, why do you have an ear piercing kit in your car?”

“Don't ask questions you're not prepared to know the answers to,” Michael answered as he opened the car door, because that was the ominous bastard aura he was looking for.

Rich followed him out and across the road where they made idle conversation back to the house, before Michael stopped him - “wait, where are we doing this?”

“Uhhh,” Rich stopped as well, scratched at his head as he looked around. “The yard? I can vom there, just in case.”

Michael looked at the house front, considered. Chloe probably wouldn't be too happy about Rich hurling in her garden. “...Yeah, sure.”

They started moving again, pushed through the mass of fellow teens thoroughly wrecking the Valentine residence, reached the stairs when Michael suddenly felt arms fling around his neck from half a foot or so above him, nearly dropping the piercing kit in shock and confusion. That is, until whoever was holding him leaned down and started cooing into his ear.

“Michaaaaaa! I've been _looking_ for you _everywhere,_ where'd you gooo? I didn't know we were playing hide and seek!” Jeremy… Somewhat whined, making Michael laugh and look up at his red-faced boyfriend, undoubtedly drunk as all hell. He was on the stairs, three steps up, leaning over the railing. Behind him was Christine, with an arm around his waist as she babbled away enthusiastically to a goth looking chick Michael didn't recognize.

“‘M sorry, Jerebear, Rich kidnapped me,” Michael gestured, knew he could get away with the nickname when Jeremy was in this state. And he was right, because Jeremy all but melted when he used it. He broke into a warm grin, goofy, showed off the perfect teeth that were a product of years of braces. Michael was getting there, just half a year more.

Though - he wasn't particularly bothered by the way they looked on himself anymore, as he'd decided he would stop being a self deprecating hypocrite. If he thought braces looked great on Jeremy? Michael couldn't look any worse because of them. He had always been self conscious about his glasses, too, until the fateful doctors appointment where Jeremy was told he was actually extremely farsighted, years of karma for teasing Michael for his terrible vision finally catching up to him. The first time Michael _saw_ Jeremy with his glasses on, silver rimmed frames in true wannabe 90s kid fashion, at least half of Michael's insecurities about himself washed away.

Now, with Jeremy's glasses slightly askew in front of his stormy blue eyes, gleaming with adoration for Michael, more of his qualms with his own looks washed away.

Jeremy's attention turned to Rich, and he removed one arm from around Michael's shoulders to point accusingly at him. “How! Dare you. I thought we were _friends_ now.”

Rich did a fake throw-up scene at their PDA, then tugged at Michael’s sleeve. “Nope! I'm doing it again. Come _on,_ I'm so fucking horny for this ear hole.”

Jeremy gave Rich a weird look, then Michael, who shut his eyes in exasperation.

“How did you phrase that in the worst way possible? He means I'm about to pierce his other ear.”

“You're WHAT?” Jeremy shrieked, used both arms to pull Michael closer, protectively. “That's dangerous! You could get hurt!”

Michael laughed a little, reached a free hand up to squeeze Jeremy's wrist comfortingly. “I mean - appreciate the concern, but Rich is gonna be the one getting the needle.”

“Y’should pierce his brain instead,” Jeremy mumbled, turned his head to press a kiss to Michael's temple. “Be _careful!_ ”

“Promise,” Michael smiled.

“ _Excuse_ me,” Rich intervened, “promise to be safe or promise to stab my brain?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at Rich as he ducked out of Jeremy's arms. “Let's go outside and find out.”

“I'm feeling VERY ATTACKED,” Rich yelled as he grabbed Michael by the elbow, pulling him towards the terrace doors. Michael laughed, blew Jeremy a kiss as he was getting whisked away from his boyfriends grabby-hands, soon finding himself in the garden of the Valentine mansion.

He shivered under the evening sky, pushing down the sleeves of his black sweatshirt. Though he could sometimes get away with wearing t-shirts during the day, the nighttime weather made it clear that they were still in late February.

Rich dumped down on the edge of the terrace - downed the remains of the red solo cup, then chucked the empty container across the grass plane with a muttered 'yeet’ under his breath. Michael sat down next to him, tilted his head back to look up at the sky.

It was almost entirely dark, only light source being the moon peeking out from behind black, fluffy clouds. On the terrace was a couple of lanterns, as fancy and ridiculous looking as the rest of the house.

“Y'know, McMansion architecture is dumb as shit. In every sense of the word.”

“Obviously, 's by and for rich people,” Rich mumbled, watching the sky as well.

Michael glanced over at him, eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “Your comrade is showing.”

Rich snorted, stretched, groaned as his back popped loudly. “Alright - let's get this piercing over with.”

“Your ear not mine,” Michael nodded as he turned around towards Rich. “Face me for a sec.”

Rich did - looked into Michael's eyes while he withdrew a marker from the kit. While he was obviously still eyeballing it, Michael did his best to plan the placement as symmetrically as possible. After he'd drawn a small, fluorescent yellow dot on Rich's right ear, he leaned back again. Made eye contact with Rich.

“Are you ready?”

Rich grabbed the bottom of his tank top, pulled it up and stuffed the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it. Then, he gave a nod.

Michael nodded back, got the other equipment ready. There were a couple of starter studs left, only one pair used up from when Michael did his Spencer's gifts guy. He sanitized the needle, and after a few moments of shuffling around he stood up fully to get better range.

“You want me to count down or just do it?”

Rich hummed a familiar tune - one of a dead meme, featuring Shia Labeouf. Michael laughed.

“Dork.”

Rich didn't have time to get offended before he had to bite down hard on his shirt, a muffled groan leaving him. After about a minute, Michael was sanitizing the new hole, wiping away the small amount of blood and cleaning the earring.

“Alright, all done.”

Rich spat out the cloth again - “holy _SHIT_ ,” he immediately exclaimed, held his head in his hands. “I do not remember the left one hurting this bad.”

“What'd you expect? I've literally only done this once,” Michael snorted. “Don't forget, you're getting this one free of charge.”

“That's true,” Rich huffed. “What are the maintenance rules, again?”

“Uhhh,” Michael paused, absentmindedly went to twirl the lock on his own right earring. “Mine were I had to clean it with a saline solution twice every day for like, four to six weeks, I think. You also can't take them out before then, or the holes gonna close up and you have to do it again.”

Rich nodded along as Michael spoke, finally lifted his head from where it drooped between his legs. “Where do I get saline solution?”

Michael shrugged. “CVS, probably. But - you can just have my contact lens cleaner, ‘cause I never use them anyways.”

“You're the true bro,” Rich nodded sagely, squeezing Michael's shoulder. Michael laughed, reached a hand up to squeeze Rich's shoulder as well.

“So - wanna go back to my car and get the bottle?”

“Hell yeah!” Rich grinned, staggered up to stand on two feet again.

Michael began packing up the kit again, when, suddenly - the terrace doors flew open, had both of the boys turning their heads to see Christine standing in the opening, wide-eyed. Her eyes searched until they landed on Michael, and she shook with relief.

“Michael? Are you sober?”

“Uh -” Michael blinked, having just shut the lid on his kit. Gave a nod, and more of Christine's tension faded away.

“Can you drive Jake home? He needs to go home, like, right now.”

At this, Rich grew more worried. “What's wrong? Did something happen to him?”

Christine bit at her lip, ran a hand through the back of her hair. “Not… Not _yet,_ but - he's in, uh. _That_ mood.”

Rich groaned, rubbing at his forehead. Michael, now standing up as well, looked between them in confusion. “What? What mood?”

Rich turned to him - “you remember at the Halloween incident, when I was… Y'know. Malfunctioning?”

Michael nodded.

“Jake gets like that without SQUIP influence whenever he gets too drunk and pumped up at the same time. He's fine when he's alone, usually just crashes and falls asleep, but uh… When he's getting egged on, he usually gets up to some _shit_ before that happens.”

“Oof,” Michael huffed, rubbed at his forehead, eyebrows furrowed. “Um - I can take him home, but, is Jer ready to go? I'm his ride.”

Rich quirked an eyebrow. “You were - you were drinking when I found you.”

“Yeah, I was drinking Red Bull,” Michael laughed. Rich blinked.

“So this whole time I've just been drinking non-alcoholic shit? Like a _kid?_ ”

“To be fair, you could've gotten much worse. I could've been drinking pickle juice, for all you knew.”

“Boys, _pleeease!_ ” Christine pleaded, snapping Michael's attention back to her.

“Right! Right. Yeah, I can drive him, if Jeremy will come too.”

“He'd do anything you wanted him to, ever,” Christine reassured him, gesturing for both of them to follow. Michael laughed, went after Christine with Rich on his tail.

It didn't take very long to find neither Jake, nor Jeremy, mainly because they were in the same room upstairs - Jeremy trying to talk Jake, who was currently hanging halfway out of the window with… With a coat hanger in hand? Out of doing whatever stupid thing he was about to do.

A few other dudes were cheering on Jake, calling Jeremy a pussy. Michael wasn't drunk, but he still felt his insides go hot, blood boiling.

“Shows over, dickheads - J&J! We gotta go,” Michael called out, giving the aforementioned dickheads the finger as he waltzed up to Jeremy.

Jeremy first lit up at his voice, then could barely contain his excitement once he actually saw Michael's face. He momentarily seemed to forget about Jake's stunt, leaving Rich and Christine to run over and pull him inside the house again as he threw his arms around Michael's shoulders, holding him in a tight hug.

“Where were you? I missed youuu,” he mumbled, quieter than the first time he'd said it that evening. Michael chuckled, wrapping his arms around Jeremy's lower back.

“I told you, remember? I was piercing Rich. Sadly didn't get his brain, though - next time,” he promised. Felt Jeremy shake a little in his arms from laughter. Michael leaned back a touch so he could look at Jeremy's face, into his eyes. “Are you ready to go? I need to drive Jake home but I'm not leavin’ without you.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy nodded, breaking into a warm, soft grin. Michael grinned back, gave him a peck on the lips. Before Jeremy could entrap him with another kiss, though, Michael turned away, but kept one arm around Jeremy's waist.

Christine had managed to talk Jake into the room again, meanwhile Rich was shoving the complaining instigators out of the room. Michael stepped closer to Jake, a little cautious.

“Hey, dude. Are you ready to go home?”

Jake looked up at him, took a second to process the question, then got a frustrated look on his face. “NO! I don't want to go home! I never want to go home! Home SUCKS,” he yelled, stomped his foot on the floor. “No one else is ever home! Why should _I_ be home when no one else is!”

That train of thought took Michael by surprise. Left him at a loss for words, actually, while Christine was trying to talk Jake down again. Rich reentered the room, and joined the fruitless fight to try to get Jake to go home, willingly. And the 'willingly’ was a priority, because Jake was stronger than all of them by a landslide.

Jeremy was silent, in the whole thing, observing, before leaning over to whisper something in Michael's ear. Michael blinked, turned to look at him.

“Are you sure?” He muttered.

Jeremy nodded.

“...Alright,” Michael nodded back, then turned to the trio again. “Hey, Jake? Instead of going home - do you wanna come with me and Jeremy? We're going back to my basement.”

Jake looked up at him from where he had slid to the floor, leaned against the wall - then broke into a wide grin, nodding enthusiastically. Christine stepped back with an exhausted sigh of relief, hand on her head.

“Thank _god._ Good thinking, Micah.”

“Actually, Jeremy's idea,” Michael smiled, giving his boyfriends waist a squeeze.

Jeremy giggled, and extracted himself from Michael's hold to help Jake back up.

Meanwhile, Michael eyed Christine, smiled a little with a pitying look. “What about you? Do you need a ride too? You look exhausted.”

“Oh, I _am,_ ” she laughed, but shook her head. “Thank you for the offer! But, no, I uh… I have a ride.”

Michael noted she looked a little flustered as she stuttered it out. Glanced behind her, to a sofa in the room where he now noticed the goth girl from earlier was sitting. He quirked a brow, looked back at Christine. “Awkward first date, huh?”

“ _Shut up,_ ” Christine snorted, slapping his arm. Michael laughed, turned back to Jake, who was using both Jeremy and Rich as crutches, which looked a little awkward with the height differences.

“Rich? D’you need a ride home?”

Rich looked up. Paused, and shook his head. Opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, shaking his head once more. “No, I'll, uh… I'll find somewhere else to crash.”

Michael glanced to make eye contact with Jeremy, who nodded. “You could come with us too, dude.”

Rich visibly lit up, gave a futile attempt at concealing his excitement and relief. “For real?”

“For real! I got hella couch space.”

Rich snorted. “Did you just say hella in the year of our lord-”

“Couch might be smaller than we think, actually, Michael,” Jeremy broke in, giving Rich a look.

“NO, no, sorry!” Rich wheezed. “Let's get going to the car. Jake is already half asleep. Once he can't walk we're stranded.”

Michael snorted, and after saying goodbye to Christine they French exited the party, still going strong behind them as they got a staggering Jake into the back seat. Rich crawled in on the other side, and Jeremy took up the passenger seat while Michael started the car.

On the first glance at the rearview mirror, Michael found Jake had fallen asleep on Rich's shoulder, and the shorter teen was stroking his curly hair absentmindedly. Jeremy was looking pretty beat up beside him as well, leaning his head on the window. Passing a sign, Michael got an idea.

“Do y'all want McDonald's?”

“Yeeeeees,” Rich hissed from the back, head lulling backwards to lean against the headrest. Jake, turning out to still be conscious, muttered an affirmation. Glancing over to Jeremy, he found him smiling.

“I thought you were a Burger King boy,” He mumbled, looking at Michael from the corner of his eye.

“I don't support monarchies,” Michael reasoned as he changed directions to get to the drive through. “Also, I want a McFlurry.”

Jeremy laughed, and as Michael slowed down, leaned over to use him for a headrest instead.

“You're a saint,” he hummed, as they were driving away again, this time with their orders. Michael laughed, accepted the cheeseburger Jeremy had unwrapped for him.

“I need to take care of my drunk idiots. I'm 99% sure y'all forgot to feed yourselves.”

“You would be correct,” Rich mumbled around his Big Mac, as he was feeding Jake fries.

“Question, though, who's the 20 piece nugs for?” Jeremy asked as he was extracting the pickles from his own cheeseburger, and reaching over to drop them into Michael's mouth. Michael was pretty sure he heard Rich mutter 'beast’ at him from behind.

“They're for morning us,” Michael explained. Jeremy laughed.

“Aw. You're so considerate, babe.”

Michael laughed, too, as he felt his heart swell with joy. He could barely wait to get to his room once they pulled into his driveway, eager to cuddle the shit out of Jeremy. As they all climbed out, he grabbed Rich and Jake by their shoulders.

Belatedly, Michael realized the lights were still on in the living room, and swore to himself.

“Shit - YOU two,” he pointed to Rich and Jake accusingly, “you two better be quiet. My moms only think I'm bringing Jeremy back.”

“'Nd now you're big pimpin’,” Rich slurred, sent Jake into a giggle fit beside him. Michael rolled his eyes, led all of them to the front door. The basement door was the first in the entrance hall, so hopefully if they walked lightly -

“Michael? Is that you?”

Michael hurried the others down the stairs and out of view before he went to the doorway of the living room, popping his head in to see his moms sitting on the couch, watching TV. They didn't look worried, luckily, and he was in before his curfew anyways.

Miya smiled at him.

“Hi honey! Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah!” Michael smiled, and… Was surprised to find that he actually did, this time. Didn't just have an average evening either following Jeremy around or leaning against a wall, he actually had fun.

Felisa was smiling, too, but had an air of suspicion about her. “Is Jeremy with you?”

“Yeah, but, he's _super_ tired, so he went straight to the basement.”

“Mmh. Are your other friends tired, too?”

At Michael's baffled look, she laughed.

“I heard more than two sets of footsteps, lion. It's okay, you can have more guests home - we'd just like to hear about them.”

“Right,” Michael wheezed, a little sheepish. “Rich and Jake are staying here too, tonight.”

“Oh! Those two guys from drama?” Miya inquired

Michael nodded, and she grinned wider.

“That's good. I'm really glad you're making more friends, Michael.”

Michael shuffled a little in place, smiled back. “...Yeah, me too. G'night.”

“Goodnight!” They chimed back, and Michael stepped back into the hallway. Went to lock the front door, as was routine, then descended into his basement himself.

The first thing he saw was Rich, tilting from side to side in his computer chair. As he spotted him, Rich grinned.

“Dude, your room is _so cozy_. I can tell why you 'n Jer were shut-in, now.”

Michael laughed a little. “Thanks.” He looked around, placed everyone else in the room. Jeremy was lying on his bed in the corner opposite his computer desk, and Jake was seated on his couch behind the stairs. Once he spotted Michael, he pointed upwards.

“Hey man, what are those blankets for?”

Michael looked to the blankets he was gesturing. He had two stapled to the ceiling, one of which went along the stair railing, blocking off his couch and TV from view upon immediate entry. The other went from where the other one stopped to the opposite wall, although one corner was rolled up so there was a pathway.

“Privacy and horror movies,” Michael answered.

“Ohhh, so this is where you jack it,” Jake nodded, making Michael turn beet red and Jeremy burst out laughing.

“ _Goodnight,_ ” Michael said, releasing the corner of the blanket so Jake was blocked off from the rest of the room.

(Jeremy was still laughing).

“Rich - you gonna sleep on the couch?” Michael turned to Rich, who hesitated.

“Uh… Isn't Jake sleeping there?”

“JOIN ME,” Jake yelled from behind the impenetrable cloth defense wall, and Michael snorted as he walked towards his bed.

“You decide if you want to step into the cave of that beast. Turn off the light if you do.”

Rich laughed breathily, and got up to do so, then ducked under the blanket.

Michael sat down on the edge of his bed, next to Jeremy. Leaned down to kiss the back of his head.

“You gotta get undressed,” he muttered into his curls. “You always regret sleeping in your jeans.”

Jeremy mumbled something incomprehensible as he shifted and turned around. Grabbed Michael's hands after some blind fumbling, led them to the edge of his pants.

“Jeremy! We have company _,_ this is scandalous.”

Jeremy opened his eyes to give Michael a _look_ that made him laugh, then stood up to undo Jeremy's belt, then help him shimmy out of his jeans. He took his glasses off as well, and then his own, folded both of them on his bedside table before taking off his own pants as well, then his sweatshirt. Finally, he climbed over Jeremy to the other side of his bed, and let out a satisfied groan as he finally got to lay down on his back.

Jeremy shifted next to him, mattress bouncing slightly as he cuddled up to Michael, and Michael hugged him close.

“Goodnight,” Jeremy muttered, against Michael's neck.

“G’night. Love ya to the moon and back.”

Jeremy chuckled, tilted his head back to kiss Michael's chin. “Love you too.”

Michael turned his head, pressed a final kiss to Jeremy's lips. Finally relaxed against the mattress, and let himself drift away.


End file.
